


Liar

by AvengersCompound (emilyevanston)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Breast cancer, Cancer, F/M, Fatal Illness, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Reader-Insert, Star Spangled Bingo, reader has cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 11:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyevanston/pseuds/AvengersCompound
Summary: Sam does not like being made a liar, but your cancer seems to want to prove him one.@star-spangled-bingo - Fatal Illness





	Liar

Sam didn’t like being made a liar of. Not about this especially.

Not about this.

It had kept happening though. First that lump you’d found in your breast. ‘Probably just a cyst.’ He’d said. ‘If not, you’d caught it early, it wouldn’t be so bad. It would be benign and they’d just cut it out and that would be that.’

He’d never believed the first part. Even then he knew it wasn’t a cyst. The puckering on the skin was not the sign of a cyst. He’d known it was cancer. He’d been sure the second must be true though. You were young and that was something that happened to other people.

Besides…

If he was going to be selfish for just one second here. Hadn’t he already lost enough people? Wasn’t his dad being stabbed to death when Sam was just 9 years old enough? Or how about his mother getting shot by a mugger while she was trying to protect him and his siblings just a couple of years later? Or Riley falling from the sky while Sam watched on helpless to do anything? Hadn’t Sam had enough people he loved die? Surely if the universe was just or fair in any way, shape, or form he wouldn’t have to lose you too.

So he’d said it was nothing. Because that’s what it had to be. It wouldn’t be fair that it was anything else but benign.

Only it wasn’t. It wasn’t a cyst and it wasn’t benign.

‘That’s okay.’ He’d said. ‘It’s just in your breast and it’s just that lump. They’ll cut it out and worst-case scenario you have to do a little bit of chemo and then you’d be cancer-free.’

They’d made him a liar then too. While tests were being run to see exactly how bad it was and you were preparing yourself for the idea of having the lump removed they’d found out that it was more invasive than they’d originally predicted. It wasn’t just the lump. You would need a mastectomy.

‘It will be fine.’ He’d assured you. Because it had to be fine. It had to be. There wasn’t a choice in the matter. So he’d assured you that he would always be there for you. That he loved you, not your tits. That even questioning that he might look elsewhere or it would make you somehow less of a woman was wrong. You were strong enough to do this. He needed you to do this. He needed you. If it meant you had a bit of tissue cut away then so be it. Then it would be done, and you could both keep living your life together and look back at this as a little blip in the happiness you’d shared.

Only he’d lied again. Not about not wanting you. Oh god. Sam wanted you so bad it hurt. If there was anything - anything - he could do to take this from you and keep you safe he’d do it. He was just a guy though. Yeah, he knew some field medicine, but he didn’t know this. He didn’t know the miracle cure for cancer once it had spread to your lymph nodes and your bones. He didn’t know how to take that out and have you be okay and well and for this to not have been a thing that happened.

‘The treatments will work.’ Sam had told you. ‘You’ll do the hormone therapy and then the chemo and it will be okay. You were strong. You’d get through it’.

Oh god, he had believed that. He’d known it would be hard. That it would be so hard you’d want to give up sometimes, but you’d make it because you were so strong. You were the strongest person he knew and he knew a lot of people who were specifically known for being strong.

Sam went from being the one that his friends seemed to go to when they were at their lowest, to the one that needed all the support. Thankfully, none of his friends were the ones that shied away from supporting people who needed it. They rallied round and the lies got louder with more voices added to it.

He was glad for it really. Oh god, at some points he wasn’t even sure how he could have kept going, seeing you so sick and struggling so hard. But you were stronger than him and you kept fighting. So when you went in to see the doctor, still sick from your treatment he had said; ‘This time they’re going to tell you yours in remission. You were going to be given the all-clear.’

Lies.

‘Two months.’

‘You had to get your affairs in order.’

‘We wish we had better news.’

Sam had felt something break inside him. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. He had told you you’d be okay. You were supposed to be okay. Those weren’t supposed to be lies. He wasn’t supposed to lose anyone else. You were supposed to grow old with him. You were supposed to get married and have kids and do all the things that they tell you you’re supposed to do with your life. You were at least supposed to have your whole life and not get it cut short, sick and in pain.

“Sam,” you had whispered as you held him and he sobbed against you. “You’ll be okay. You’ll move on. One day you’ll meet someone new who will love you just as much as I do.”

It was a lie.

Now he just needed to get it together enough that he could pretend to believe it for you.


End file.
